


Love in an Elevator

by CookieDoughMe



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: LLF Comment Project, M/M, alternating pov, office life AU, unrealistic broken elevator scenario
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 10:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 4,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15387072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieDoughMe/pseuds/CookieDoughMe
Summary: Does what it says on the tin. Fellow office workers Nathan and Duke find themselves alone together in a stuck elevator. No prizes for guessing how they pass the time ;)





	1. Nathan

It's been an irritating day and I'm glad when I realize the hour hand has shifted past six and it's a reasonable time for me to head home.

I walk out to the elevators and there he is again. Since the clothing company moved into the offices across from ours, I often see him at the end of the day. Today he's a little ahead of me and I just catch sight of his ripped years and flip flops disappearing between the closing elevator doors, just before I'm close enough to run and grab the same one.

I'm not sure I'd want to anyway; there is something fascinating about him and if we're sharing a space, even for only a minute, I will find myself spending the time wondering how to start a conversation, wondering if I should.


	2. Duke

It's our busiest time of year and I'm going to be working late tonight, but I'm not going to make it long past my usual finishing time if I don't get some quality caffeine inside me, and maybe some proper fuel as well.

I head out to the elevators to go check out the new coffee shop on the corner. As I leave the door to our offices, someone is coming out of the posh old jewellery company that has the space opposite. I don't know his name, but I've seen him before. He is all smart suit, shiny shoes and expensive watch. I imagine he spends his days moving around stupidly large sums of money, and I wonder what he would make of our tiny start up budget and the fact we're still not strictly profit-making yet.

I nod an acknowledgement of his presence as I push the button for the elevator and run through the To Do list in my head.


	3. Nathan

He's there again today and he directs a curt nod at me before he pushes the button to call the elevator. It's the briefest acknowledgment, half a hello. I almost follow it up with a actual ‘Hello’, but he looks preoccupied and I decide it's not the best time.

I take advantage of his obliviousness to study him in the elevator mirrors. He's about my age, same height as me. He's slim but he has some muscle to him; I wonder if he runs, or swims, maybe yoga. He definitely works out, but not weights. 

I mentally shake my head at myself, what am I doing? I don't even know the guy. 

The elevator stops at a few different floors today and as more people get on I can see less and less of him; little glimpses as people move to let others on. His jeans are torn and ripped, but the rips have that intentional kind of look about them that makes the jeans seem new. His t-shirt is a washed out colour that has the same look about it - it could almost be an outfit that he's worn regularly for the last 10 years, but it isn't. It's actually new and just nicely designed to look that way. And it fits him perfectly. 

The elevator doors open again and it takes me a minute to realize we're on the first floor. This time I literally shake myself out of it. He goes one way, I go the other.


	4. Duke

It's not every day I see him, but often as not we end up in the elevator together at the end of the day. For a few floors at least; the building is getting busier and it's often not long before more people get on as we make our way down the building.

Today he is there waiting, tapping a finger against his leg impatiently. I think about saying something as I walk up to him, but then the elevator door opens and the moment is gone.

Unusually, it’s half-full already and we slot ourselves in to opposite corners, the opportunity for conversation lost. I steal a look or two instead.

Again with the smart outfit; always with the immaculate three piece suit. It's nicely cut too; it fits him perfectly and it shows off a figure that looks like he somehow finds time to hit the gym inbetween whatever it is he does that pays for those immaculate shoes and what surely must be an incredibly pricey watch. 

More people get on and I shift to the back. By the time we're getting out again, he is at the front and in a hurry to get wherever he's going. I watch him go, wondering what has him so jittery.


	5. Nathan

This is always the most difficult week of the year, in a way. The week after we've finished all the Year End work, the week after the craziness stops and the hours go back to normal and the stress drops off and I have time to stop and think and wonder why I ever stuck this job out. Still, I'm here now and changing career at this point would be tricky. Particularly as I have no idea what I would change to.

As I leave the office at a reasonable hour for the first time in what feels like months, the guy from the clothing company is there, pacing in front of the elevators as he talks on his phone. I am absurdly pleased to see him and I try not to let all of that show on my face, even as he is looking the other way.

He turns in his pacing and when he sees me he flashes a quick grin at me before returning to his phone call. I try not to listen but that’s actually pretty much impossible when it's the only thing happening within ear shot. Some kind of problem with a supplier.

The elevator arrives and I step into it, leaving him to pace as he argues his point and wishing him a silent good luck that the issue gets resolved.


	6. Duke

I don't even realize exactly how much he's got under my skin until I find myself telling friends about him over drinks one night. Telling them about his expensive watch and shiny shoes and how I didn't see him for weeks but now he's back. They tell me I should introduce myself, ask him for drinks. We're practically co-workers after all.

“He isn't my type,” I protest. “He’s too … polished; polished shoes, shiny cufflinks, perfectly shaped fingernails...”

“You’ve studied his fingernails?” Julia cuts in, amused.

“I just happened to notice, when he pushed the button for the …”

“Uh huh. So why don’t you just ask him out already? It’s not like you to get all shy about it,” asked Jess.

She has a point there and I don't really have a convincing response. “Yeah, I don’t know. He’s not my type,” I say again, though I have to admit, even to me it sounds like I'm trying to convince myself. 

The two women roll their eyes at each other and I pretend not to notice as I get up for more drinks.


	7. Nathan

As I pack up my stuff to leave at the end of the day I can feel that I'm on edge and it takes me a moment to realize why. The day has been nothing unusual, there is nothing specific going on tomorrow. I have a quiet evening at home ahead of me (after a trip to the gym) - what am I worrying about?

It doesn't hit me until I step out into the hall to wait for the elevators. I don't know whether I'm afraid I won't see him, or nervous at the idea that I will. It's a little later than I normally leave, but not by much - It's an inbetween time and no one else is around as I push the button to leave the building.

When the elevator arrives it's empty too, and I step into it thinking I'm going to have it to myself. But just as the doors begin to close, someone else slips in. It's him, all stylish shabby chic and trendy long hair. Suddenly I feel stuffy and old fashioned with my suit and briefcase.


	8. Duke

It's one of those days where I get in the zone with an idea and don't realize how much work I'm doing until I happen to look up and notice the time. I'm sure just now it was 4pm, but now it's quarter past six and I should probably be getting out of here; the office is empty already and I can pick this up tomorrow.

The elevator doors are open as I get there and I slip inside just before they close. And find myself alone in a confined space with the guy whose fingernails I have apparently studied. 

I give him a hint of a smile, and nod a greeting, “Evening.”

He nods back, but he doesn't say anything. That’s OK; he manages to make not-speaking seem friendly enough, and I have a sudden impression of him as someone shy, not used to starting conversations with strangers. 

“Nice watch,” I venture. The elevator has moved down a few floors and then stopped. It does this sometimes when the building is busy; supposed to be some scheduling feature of the clever new system or something. They told us all about it when we looked around, but I didn't really take it in, I was too busy checking out the view of the city 

“Thanks,” he says, sounding surprised. “It was my father's.”

I nod, wondering if he realizes how much he's told me about himself with those four little words. Probably not, I decide, and start to think of other innocuous-sounding comments that might prove equally informative.


	9. Nathan

The elevator is taking its time today, and that makes me more jittery even as I almost wish it would stop completely. 

He compliments me on my watch and then I feel his eyes running over me, taking in the rest of my outfit I guess. I'm not sure what he makes of it though because before he can say anything else (and before I manage to think of a conversation starter), the elevator jumps back into life for just a moment and then makes a dramatic stop. 

It's dramatic enough in fact that we both instinctively grab for the little handrail that runs along the back of the space and we look at each other, like, Oh, that can't be right can it?

We look at the screen that shows what floor we're on and it says there's eight left to go. But when I push the button to open the doors, nothing happens so I guess we're not exactly on any floor at all.

He reaches for the intercom button, then hesitates and looks up to the corner of the space where there is a hint of something that might be a camera.

Then the intercom springs into life on its own. “Hello, you're going to be fine, there is an issue with the elevators, we're looking into it now, please bear with us.” The voice sounds harried but not scared, stressed but not worried. It sounds like we might just be sat here for a while.


	10. Duke

Once the intercom tells us we might have a wait ahead of us, the gorgeous guy I'm stuck in a confined space with drops his briefcase to the floor.

It's the motion that makes me look at it properly for the first time. Everything else about him, from his shoes on up to his carefully styled hair, is shiny and new. The briefcase is… not.

“Was that your father's too?” I ask, hoping that it's not too intrusive a question when we haven't swapped so much as names. He looks surprised but not exactly offended. “Not that it's any of my business, obviously. I just figured we may as well talk to each other if we're going to be stuck here a while.”

He nods and I think I'm forgiven. “It wasn't as it happens. But it was a gift from him, when I started college. I guess it's gotten a bit battered over the years,” he admitted as he looked down at it.

“I like it,” I assure him. “But who gives a teenager a briefcase?”

He laughs then, short and hard. I think he's amused, but he's remembering a not-great relationship with his father too. Time to change the subject.


	11. Nathan

“I'm Duke,” he says, and sticks out his hand. 

I take it in a handshake. “Nathan,” I tell him. “But who calls a child Duke?”

He laughs at the reference, though I suspect not the actual question. Perhaps we both have fathers we don't want to talk about.

“You work at the clothing company right?”

He nods, “I do. You like our stuff?” he asks and twirls around in front of me, his hands fluttering about as he gestures to his t-shirt and jeans. It's a nice view and I realize too late that he's caught me looking. Stupid mirror.

He doesn't pick me up on it though, and so I return to his question. “They are very … stylishly … distressed,” I tell him, hoping that’s the right word for deliberately-worn patches in denim. 

He grins, “Very diplomatic. Not your style I guess,” he adds with a glance down my chest. Have I caught him looking now?

“You work for the jewellery company? Expensive stuff from the look of it. What do you do for them?”

“CFO,” I tell him. “I'm an accountant. You?”

“We don't really do job titles.”

I watch him to see if he's joking. He doesn't seem to be, but surely that is taking the whole trendy start-up vibe just a little too far.

“Which either means,” I tell him, “that your role is more junior than you'd like and you don't want to admit it, or ... that you actually run the whole place and don't want to brag.”

There is a pause before he replies with an impressed little, “Huh.” And then he adds, “You're a quick study. You know, either option implies I've given some thought to what you'll think of me.”

He … well I guess he does have a point there. “Am I right?” I ask.

He looks back at me and we watch each other's eyes for just not-quite-long-enough, before he turns the moment into an honest one by answering my original question. 

“I own the company with my brother. Won some money in a poker game at college; decided to put it to good use.”

I don't know why, but that really wasn't what I was expecting. “Really?” I ask.

“Yes. What's the story behind your CFO job title?”

“Not much to tell really. Dad was an accountant, wanted me to study something useful. It's fine,” I shrug at myself, at my usual answer and the vagueness of it.

“Well,” he replies, “It certainly keeps you in smart suits.”

His gaze travels down my chest again and if it wasn't for the way he was looking at me I would think he was taking the piss out of the way I'm dressed.


	12. Duke

So, he's definitely seen me looking at him, and he definitely hasn't stepped away. Not that there's far to step, admittedly, but still; he was definitely looking at me too.

I already know he doesn't wear a wedding ring, but I look anyway. “You got anyone waiting for you at home?” I ask him.

He shakes his head before he adds a little, “No.” So I take a step closer to him and he doesn't move away.

“You?” he asks, though I think he already knows the answer too.

“No,” I tell him. “Not for a while now,” and he takes a cautious half-step closer to me.

Much closer still and we will be touching. I get a hint of his aftershave, something expensive and musky. It suits him. All of it suits him, I belatedly realize. The three piece suit and the shiny shoes, they might not be my style but they are his and that’s why it works.

I let my eyes run over his chest again, jacket and vest and shirt; three sets of buttons. I want to undo all of them, one by one, pressing my lips to his in between each time I reach for his clothes.


	13. Nathan

I watch his face as he looks me over again. It's been a while since anyone looked at me like that. He shifts on his feet and tilts his head, just a fraction. It's a tiny movement really, but it's somehow very expressive. I get a sudden impression of him as a dancer, or an athlete; comfortable in his body and how to use it. I get a sudden impression too of how he might move in bed, and I feel a rush of self-conscious heat reach my cheeks as I realize how far I'm skipping ahead.

Not sure what else to do to make the point that I want something to happen, I take another little half-step closer to him. He looks back at me, unfazed, as though he had been expecting that, as though he had been waiting for it. He is almost exactly the same height as me; that doesn't happen very often. There is just the barest hint of grey in the hair at his temples that I hadn't noticed before and a hint of scent reaches me; something that might be sandalwood. 

I feel like I should say something and I take a breath in to do so, but I don't actually know what words to use. He sees the movement though and raises an eyebrow at me, tilts his head again like it means something. He waits for a moment, gives me a chance to speak, and when I don't he leans forward, brings his hand up to rest lightly on my neck.


	14. Duke

I think he's going to say something, but then he doesn't. But then, what is there to say when you are stood this close to someone and neither of you is moving away? There is the slightest flush to his cheeks that might be self-consciousness, or might be … well that might be any number of things I guess; I try not to skip ahead.

I move slowly. I don't want to break the moment, but also I want to give him the chance to step away if he wants. It's only fun if he's into it too, and this whole confined space issue feels like a complication. 

I rest my hand on his neck; palm against his impeccably stylish collar. He doesn't flinch away, if anything he leans into it, just a fraction. Some part of my brain reminds me of the existence of a camera in the corner of the ceiling but, I'm not sure I care, and I'm certainly not going to pull back from a moment like this on the off chance that some bored security guard might be watching. 

I watch him looking back at me, with his cheekbones and just-about-there stubble and some of the bluest eyes I've ever seen. I bring my other hand to the back of his neck as I lean in for a kiss. He tastes of coffee and he kisses like he's hungry; like I'm the finest food he's ever tasted and he wants to savour every bite.

I shift on my feet to pull him closer and he comes easily. His hands find my back as he wraps his arms around me and I feel the strength in them.


	15. Nathan

We kiss and he tastes of fruit juice; one of the wheatgrass smoothies maybe from the vegan place on the corner. I feel his tongue and his lips and, god his teeth too, nipping at my lips like he wants to remind me that he's there.

I wrap my arms a little tighter around him, feeling the lean muscle under his t-shirt, feeling the way he pushes his body against mine in response. His fingers dance across the back of my neck, catching the tiny little hairs there and making me shiver. And then he is pushing forwards, crowing against me until I step backwards; once, twice and then my back hits the wall with a gentle thud. He pushes tight against me so I am pressed close between him and the wall, even as we kiss all the while. I feel my heart miss a beat and my cock twitch and even as I wonder what I am doing in the elevator to my office, I do not want him to stop.


	16. Building Management

It was the same old thing for most of my shift until something happened to the software that controls all the elevators in the building. I don't know what; it seems that’s above my pay grade. I just know it means I'm sat here staring at CCTV screens with a steadily rotating view of stationary elevators instead of the usual moving ones.

So now I'm on the lookout for anyone who might be having trouble with the wait, or the confined space. There's one woman sat on the floor on her own, reading a book; she seems to be OK. There's another that’s full of people which could be awkward, but they seem to be talking and getting on alright; maybe they're all from the same floor. There was one with a couple of guys looked like they might be squaring up for a fight, I need to keep an eye out for… oh. OK. There they are again, and that is definitely not a fight. 

I hope they know there's a camera on them and I'm glad someone managed to get some fun out of whatever software error it is that has everyone else in the building annoyed.


	17. Duke

I push my fingers into his hair and hear the tiniest little moan. I press our hips together and feel his cock hard against mine. God damn it I wish we were somewhere else.

I pull out of the kiss and move my lips to his ear to tell him so, “You wanna go somewhere when we get out of here?” 

He nods. “Yeah,” he replies, as breathless as I am. “One sec,” he adds, and slips out of my arms to take off his jacket and drape it over his briefcase. 

“You know there's a camera in here right?” I ask. 

He raises a single eyebrow at me. “Just my jacket,” he tells me. And then he is reaching for me and it's his turn to press me into the wall. I get a glimpse in the mirror of his back; perfectly tailored vest, just-tight-enough pants, crisp white shirt. God. I don't know whether to hope the elevators get fixed so we can get out of here and I can tear his impeccable outfit from him, or to hope that we're stuck here for a while in case a change of scene breaks the mood.

“Where did you have in mind?” he asks in my ear, and I have to replay the last couple minutes in my head before I realize what he means.

“My place is a 10 minute walk away,” I tell him.

“OK,” he replies in between kisses.

“I hope you know I am going to undo all of these buttons when we get there,” I tell him as I run my hand down his chest again. I force myself to stop at his belt, to wait.

He flashes a quick smile at me. “Yeah?” he asks, almost surprised, charmingly-pleased. “What else are you going to do?”

Absolutely anything you want, I think, but I don't say that. We are whispering in each other's ears and it's kind of intense already. I pitch for a lighter kind of flirty, “Well clearly those pants will have to go as well.”


	18. Nathan

I have never made out with someone in an elevator before and I hadn't planned to start. It's kind of a strange situation, but not strange enough to make me want to stop. Just strange enough to put a break on what we're doing. I feel his hand reach down to my belt and somehow I know without any doubt that if there weren't a camera and an intercom in here that he would have kept going.

But there is a camera on us and also the doors could open any moment, so we reign ourselves in. Kiss like teenagers and keep our hands above each other's belts. Still, we whisper filthy things in each other's ears like … well not like any teenagers I ever knew. 

He tells me he wants to rip my clothes off, that he wants to watch me undress, that he wants to make me wait while he slowly undoes one button at a time. He tells me that he wants to see what I keep under my shirt and that he wants to feel my hands on his ass, my lips on his cock.

My breath catches in my throat; I was never that good at the whole talking-dirty thing. But still somehow I manage to whisper in his ear that I am imagining what he might look like, naked and lying back on my bed waiting for me. I tell him that I love the way he kisses and that I can tell from the way his hands run down my back that I will love the way he moves against me, that I can not wait to feel his palms on my skin.

My hands find his hair and my fingers push into his ponytail. He plays with my tie, undoing it a fraction, pulling the knot down and then pushing it back up, playing with the suggestion of tightening it hard against my throat. I didn't think that was my style, but my heart skips a beat all the same.


	19. Building Management

Eventually the software gets fixed enough that they can move all the elevators down to the next floor and open the doors so that people can take the stairs from there.

So now my job is to tell everyone that, make sure they're on their way out, arrange help for anyone who can't manage the stairs. 

There is cheering when I announce it, and most of the elevators empty out right away. The woman with the book takes a moment or two, I guess she's finishing her chapter. 

I let the view cycle through them all a couple of times until it is only the one elevator left.

“Sirs, excuse me, the elevators will not be moving, but you can leave now and take the stairs,” I tell them again. “You're only on the 8th floor, you'll be fine.” I don't know whether they just haven't noticed the tinny voice coming from the intercom or if they simply don't care. I try again, “Gentlemen we need to ask everyone to leave so that we can reset the system.” I don't think this is true, but still. They can't stay there making out like teenagers all night. 

But that is what they are giving every sign of doing. With a sigh I bring my mouth closer to the microphone. “Oy love birds! Get a room!” That gets a reaction and they disentangle themselves at last, with a sheepish glance or two in the direction of the intercom. “You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here!” I add for good measure and I hope it doesn't come off too annoyed or aggressive. 

They gather their things and direct a nod and a wave in the direction of the camera before they make their way out of the doors. I just get a glimpse of a hand on an ass before the camera cuts out and I silently wish them a fun evening together.


	20. Duke

I'm not sure I want to tell them, not yet, not least because I can hear the I told you so’s already. But Julia asks what's up with me and Jess tells me I'm grinning enough that it looks like I got some, and so the whole tale comes out anyway.

They laugh and ask to meet him. It's too soon for that, but I show them a photo (one of the fully dressed ones). They tell me he looks nice, and I tell them they are right yet again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you are glad you did, you can click the Kudos button to let the author know.
> 
> Also, this story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created with the aim of improving communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates all forms of positive feedback (no matter how long ago this fic was posted), including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Incoherent keyboard-smash comments as a sign of enthusiasm
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Questions
>   * Anything you'd like to see more of (including requests for recommendations of similar works)
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> The LLF Project also has a Comment Builder here. You do not need an account to comment.
> 
> This author typically replies to comments, however if for any reason you would rather not receive a reply, just include #whisper in your comment and this will be respected.
> 
> Or, you can message the author on tumblr (cookiedoughmeagain) or Twitter (CookieDoughYou) - I'm always happy to hear from fellow fans:)


End file.
